Fix You
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Vince/Phil. Rare Pair! After Phil had his operation to repair his partially torn meniscus, Vince will do just about anything to make it home to his pet. Warning(s): Slash, Dom/sub, Care, etc. Please Review!


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the title/lyrics.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Dom/sub, Care, etc.

* * *

_Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you. –_ COLDPLAY

* * *

Phil was stretched out on the bed in the vacation home that Vince had bought for them in Chicago. Well, the vacation home that had become more of a home to them then their actual home in San Francisco. An obnoxiously white pillow was tucked neatly beneath his inflamed knee, which was covered in bandages. There was a glass of water on the bedside table, and beside it, a bottle of pain medication. In a few hours, he would need to take another dose of it.

Vince had been infuriated when he had found out that Mike had taken it upon himself to ask the local police to perform a lie-detector test on his pet. Even if Phil _was_ lying about his involvement with The Shield, there was no need to subject him to public embarrassment. And then, when Phil had been hurt by Ryback later on in the show, Vince had been beside himself. At one point, he had even said that he would 'fire the cold-blooded bastard'.

Once they had found out that it was more serious than they thought it had been, talk of serious consequences had been mentioned. Phil had tenderly talked him down. There was no need to take drastic measures. Ryback could have his rematch when he was healthy and, until then, he would have to take a few weeks off. If medical tried to send him back before he was actually ready to compete, _then_ Vince could 'fire' to his heart's content.

Now, Phil lay alone in the cold, barren bedroom. Vince had decided to refurnish the house and most of the furniture remained unpacked. In fact, they had had to have Hunter come over to assemble the bed so Phil could come home after his operation. Phil took the remote and flicked through the channels that they did have (the cable hadn't been re-connected either). His options consisted of soap operas and Spanish soap operas. Phil rolled his eyes and turned it off.

He knew how much Vince wanted to be here with him. And he _would_ be, if it weren't for the idiots back at the office who couldn't seem to function without their faithful leader there. He had a lot of work to do in order to determine the new General Manager. Information had come to the surface that Vickie Guerrero could have an inappropriate relationship with Dolph, which would mean that she would have to be removed from her position.

Then, there were other matters to be dealt with. Behind the scenes, Beth Phoenix had been appealing her case until it finally made it to the Board of Directors. Now, Vince had to deal with _that_ mess. And then, there was the involvement with The Shield. There wasn't enough time to fire everyone and for each person that he fired, he lost money. And if there was one thing that Phil had learned about his master, it was that the older man loved his money.

Phil understood all of this. Still, that didn't really make it any better. He was in pain and he had to take care of himself, which was unusual for him. The furthest that he was allowed to walk was from the bed to the bathroom, so Paul would come over with breakfast, lunch, and dinner for him. The company was nice, but it wasn't the same. He knew that Paul knew this too, but still, he continued to come. Phil was thankful for that.

He reached over toward the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out his IPod. Carefully, he unwound the headphones and plugged them in. Scrolling down to a random song, he let the first trickle of melody lull him into a trance-like state. His eyes slid closed and he drew the blankets around his body. Maybe, if he would rest for a little while, he would wake and Vince would be there…

* * *

_And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can't replace. When you love someone but it goes to waste, could it be worse?_

* * *

Vince signed his name on the dotted line for the last time, before he shoved the paper into the overfilled 'OUT' bin. He tossed the pen across the desk and slid the chair back hurriedly. It was a little after six o' clock. In other words, his baby would already be knocked out cold back at home. It was still hard to believe that he had been injured like that, but Vince didn't want to take any chances with Phil's health. He knew what this job meant to him and couldn't risk it.

In fact, that was why he was here _now_. Aside from the fact that he had business to deal with regarding the Vickie Guererro issue and The Shield, he also wanted to have a little talk with Ryback. He couldn't fire the young star. He had listened to Phil when he had reasoned it out and, really, it would be _Vince_ he would lose out on the deal when he was out millions of dollars. Instead, he wanted to have a little chat about his antics on last Monday's Raw.

There was a knock on the door. Vince looked at the clock – six-thirty on the dot. At least the boy knew how to be punctual. "Come in." Vince called.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Ryback looked much different in his street clothes. Baggy jeans and a sweatshirt two sizes too large hung on his muscular body.

"Yes, actually, I did. Take a seat." Vince slid back up to his desk and propped his elbows on the wood. "I wanted to talk about the incident on Miz TV regarding you, The Shield, and CM Punk."

Ryback blinked slowly, before realization dawned in his eyes. "Sir, I… I couldn't let them get away with what they were doing to Mike. They've pulled this nonsense on innocent stars and it had to stop -,"

Vince cut him off gently. "Sure, I understand that. But then what, pray tell, led you to attack CM Punk afterword. You do realize that he was forced to have surgery for a torn meniscus, correct?"

"Yes, I -," again, Vince cut him off.

"I wanted to inform you that CM Punk _will_ be at the TLC pay-per-view, but not in a match for his WWE Title. In fact, he won't be in a match for a _long_ time because of the shit that you pulled." Vince hissed.

He wasn't sure where the idea had come to take an injured Phil to Brooklyn with him, but deep down, he knew that it had to be done. Phil wouldn't be cleared to compete for several weeks, but it was unfair to him to leave him home. While the submissive would never admit to it, it was obvious that he got lonely when Vince wasn't around. Often, he would never remove his collar and Vince would come home to find him curled in a ball on his side of the bed.

He already started to map it all out in his head. In two weeks, when the pay-per-view arrived, Phil should be cleared for crutches. But still, Vince would have a wheelchair reserved for him, just in case. Phil would bitch and moan about it, but secretly, inside, he would smile. He would smile because he knew that Vince cared about him enough to take that extra precaution. And they would watch the pay-per-view from the skybox, where he could watch Phil closely.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I still don't understand why you called me in here…" Ryback trailed off uncertainly.

"I wanted to make it clear that the only reason you have your job is because Phil seems to see something in you. He saved your ass from the unemployment line, so I would me a little more grateful. Understood?"

Ryback swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir." The tightrope that he walked was a thin one.

"And I wanted to inform you that if you so much as _look_ at him the wrong way at TLC, not even _his_ word will save you. You will be fired. You won't even have a chance at TNA after I'm done with you. Do I make myself clear?"

Ryback's blue eyes had widened and he nodded forcefully. "Crystal."

"Good." Vince turned to his computer and started to shut it down. "You may leave now."

Ryback barely waited for him to finish before he was out of the office and into the elevator. When the door slid closed behind him, Vince let the masochistic smile that had wanted to reveal itself since the start of this uncomfortable conversation form. Phil didn't need to know about this little conversation, unless, of course, the situation continued to escalate. It was _good_ to be the boss…

* * *

_And high up above or down below, when you're too in love to let it go. But if you never try you'll never know, just what you're worth._

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Vince's private jet was ready to take him back to Chicago. If he was lucky, he'd make it back there in less than four hours. His little chat with Ryback had revitalized him and when the attendant, a sweet young girl with the buttons of her uniform done a little too low, asked if he wanted a drink, he nodded and told her to fix him a martini. With a smile, she walked away to make his order.

When she returned, he thanked her and took the drink from her hands. And then he turned toward the window, admiring the beautiful array of mist-like clouds. It had always amused him how Phil was so fascinated with them. But then, he frowned. Just the idea of his sweet baby, with his swollen knee and the seemingly endless bottle of pain medication at his side, made his heart hurt. It didn't matter the hour. He needed to call him.

He dialed the number he knew by heart and waited, breathless, to hear Phil's voice. After a moment, the line crackled and Phil's groggy voice washed over him like a refreshing wave at the beach. _"Hello?"_

"Phil?" He could almost _hear_ his submissive perk up at the sound of his voice. "How do you feel? Is the pain too terrible?" Vince asked. Phil moaned as he shifted around on the bed. "Don't shift too much! You'll aggravate it!"

"_Sorry, master_." Phil sniffed. It was obvious that he thought that Vince had yelled at him and Phil didn't take to chastisement well. "_It hurts, but I've slept it off for most of the day."_

Vince sighed. "I didn't mean to yell at you, Phil. I'm sorry. I suppose I'm just a little tense, that's all." He forced a smile, because Phil could always tell if he was upset by the tone of voice that he used.

_"It's okay, master."_ Phil said tiredly. He sounded as if, on top of all of this, he had started to develop a migraine as well. _"Are you coming home soon?"_

Vince swallowed hard at the hopeful tone in his submissive's voice. "Yes, Phil. I'm on my way home now. I want you to sleep and when you wake up next, I'll be with you. Okay?"

_"Okay."_ Phil sounded like he was halfway there now. _"And Vince?"_ Vince made an affirmative sound. _"I love you."_

Vince couldn't help but smile. "I love you too, Phil."

The call ended and he couldn't help but feel better about the situation. Due to all of the chaos with the different shows, he hadn't been able to call Phil and hear his voice. That had nearly killed him. The occasional call from Paul to tell him about his condition was helpful, but it wasn't nearly enough. Especially when Paul had his own family to worry about. Vince looked at the time. He hoped that he could keep his promise to be there before Phil awoke…

* * *

_Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you._

* * *

With eyes still blurred with sleep, Phil looked over to his side and found Vince there, gently carding his fingers through what was left of Phil's hair. Phil smiled. Never once had Vince made a promise that he couldn't follow through on. No matter the cost to himself or those around him, he always put Phil as his number one priority. When Vince noticed that he was awake, he leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"How did you -," but Vince cut him off. He wrapped an arm around Phil's middle and held him securely. Phil had learned quickly that it was safe and warm in Vince's arms.

"Shh…" Vince started to rub his shoulders and Phil's eyes felt heavy once more. "We can talk about it in the morning. Right now, I want you to sleep." And seconds later, he was back in his dreamland.


End file.
